A Familiar Fear
by Aly K
Summary: Sam and Dean need to face their fears. Before it kills them.
1. Anger

A/N: First off I would like to say that my first fic, My Brother's Keeper will play a part in this, but you don't really have to read it first. Any mention I make of it will be explained.

Okay guys, here it is! I know a lot of you were disappointed by having Dean not know what he did in the last story, so I hope this makes you happy. He will find out, rest assured. This is a tag to Asylum, but from there it will go into a story. I know the fear thing has been done before, but I couldn't help myself. Hope you all like it.

Warnings: Language, maybe some violence later.

Disclaimer: Don't own the boys.

A Familiar Fear

Chapter 1: Anger

Sam Winchester sat, slouched in the passenger seat of the Impala. For once the pounding mulletrock was not distracting him from his thoughts. _'The one time I want it to.' _Sam thought dejectedly. His brother, Dean had cranked the music up as soon as they got into the car, not giving Sam the chance to even think about opening his mouth. Sam was expecting the brush off. The Winchesters were not the kind of people who talked about their feelings, 'the Winchesters' meaning Dean and John. Sam thought talking was perfectly normal, and at times, even necessary.

Sam pushed those thoughts to the side and put the focus back on his own guilt. He had shot his brother. He had shot Dean, intending to kill him. It was true that he had been possessed by the ghost of Sanford Ellicot, the crazy doctor from the Roosevelt Asylum, but part of it was still him. He would never think about killing his brother, or even saying the words he had told Dean, but it had still happened. The words had been there, deep down inside of him, and they had come out. Sam could only silently thank whoever was listening that the gun hadn't been loaded.

The youngest Winchester could tell that Dean was angry. Who wouldn't be after their brother just tried to murder them with their own gun? Sam knew his earlier apology was not going to mend the gap between them. It would take much more than that. Sam could also tell that Dean was hurting. They had been driving for some time. The older hunter had wanted to put as much distance between them and Rockford, Illinois as he possibly could.

Sam couldn't blame him. He would like nothing more than to forget what he had almost done to his older brother, but he couldn't. Neither could Dean. It might be like pulling teeth, but Sam would get Dean to talk to him. A talking Dean was a good Dean, even if it were just him saying how much he hated Sam at the moment. At least it would be progress.

Sam saw Dean rub his chest again, and couldn't take it anymore. "Do you want me to drive?" Sam asked softly after turning the music down.

"No." Dean snapped. His hand quickly left his ribs to jerk the volume dial up, before going back to the wheel. He didn't look at Sam, but kept his eyes glued to the dark road ahead.

Sam stayed quiet until they entered a small town. His hand repeated the action of silencing the music. He could see Dean's jaw clench in annoyance, but ignored it. "Can we find a motel?"

"Fine."

They were lucky enough to find a small motel, attached to a Mexican restaurant. The lights that made up a man with a sombrero flickered over the vacancy sign. Sam idly wondered how hard it would be to find some tequila. That might lighten up his brother's sour mood. He could remember one time right before he left for Stanford, when Dean had gotten thoroughly trashed on Southern Comfort. This was John's attempt to comfort his oldest son after a particularly painful injury. Dean had never been so talkative in his life.

At the time Sam had been fearful for his brother's life, but looking back on it now, it was quite amusing. Sam shook the funny memory from his mind as Dean parked the car. When his older brother moved to get out Sam started, "I can check us in if you-"

The sound of the door creaking shut cut Sam off. "...want." He finished with a sigh. The stress of the whole situation was starting to add to the headache Dr. Ellicot had left behind. It was going to be a long couple of days.

Dean returned quickly. He easily hid the pain he must have been in, but Sam could see it. It was all in the way his brother held himself, slightly hunched over and taking smaller steps. Dean grabbed his duffle bag and let himself into the room farthest away from the restaurant. He didn't acknowledge Sam once. It was definitely going to be a long couple of days.

Sam got out of the car and got his bag before closing the trunk. He started towards the building, but stopped. A chill ran through his body, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He looked back into the shadows, feeling the prickly sensation grow. In a matter of moments the feeling was gone, and had Sam wondering if it had even been there in the first place. He put it in the back of his mind and continued on.

By the time Sam got into the room Dean was already in the bathroom. Sam sat down on one of the twin beds and looked around. The room was dingy, unlike many of the motels Sam had stayed in throughout his life. Smoke had turned the patterned walls yellow, and the hunter hardly had any interest in what the stains on the floor were. Sam shrugged it off, knowing they had stayed in worse places. He laid back and started counting the brown water stains on the ceiling, waiting for Dean to come out.

-----------------

Dean winced while he stared at his bruised chest. The bruises Sammy had given him. They had given each other plenty of bruises growing up. After all, they were boys, and boys did love to ruough-house. However, these were different. These ones were given out of malice and anger. Dean knew Sam would never seriously hurt him, but it still stung. Even knowing this, Dean couldn't stop being angry. Seeing Sam and remembering what had been said and done just pissed Dean off!

The older hunter tried to tell himself that things like this happened. It wasn't Sam's fault. Dean would have believed it too if he hadn't known for a fact Sam believed in some of the things he said. The truth had been in there, somewhere.

Dean groaned softly, pulling his shirt back over his head. He needed a shower, but figured that it could wait until morning. The hot water was bound to sting the red welts that the rock salt had left behind. Right now he just wanted sleep. Dean didn't want to face his brother, but knew he couldn't hide in the bathroom forever. Sam would want to talk, and then have a 'moment'. It's what he always wanted after one of them got hurt, emotionally or physically. _"Well that's just too damn bad, Sammy. It'll have to wait until I'm done wanting to kick your ass." _Dean thought, rubbing his chest with a grumble.

_'Be asleep, Sam. Please be asleep and leave me the hell alone.' _Dean prayed silently as he opened the bathroom door and headed for the bed closest to the exit. It was their ritual whenever it was just the two of them. Sam always took the bed farthest away from the door. He used to joke, saying he did that because if anything came in it would eat Dean first. To which Dean would reply that Sam was too scrawny, so whatever came in would never get a good meal out of him anyway.

Dean changed for bed and was just about to let out a sigh of relief, when Sam spoke.

"Dean?" The older hunter tried to ignore his brother, but Sam insisted, "Dean."

"What?"

"Can we talk?"

"No."

"Dean."

"I said no, damnit! What part of that do you not get?" Dean asked angrily. Why couldn't Sam just forget about it and let his older brother get over it in his own time?

Sam didn't back down, "We _need_ to talk."

"About what." The words were not a question.

"About this! About what happened! We can't just suppress this and hope for the best! Why won't you just talk to me?"

"Because I don't want to." Dean answered with a sneer.

"That's real mature, Dean."

"This coming from the guy who shot me because he had some issues!"

Sam's face softened. He got up off of the bed and went closer to Dean. "I... I said I was sorry for that, and I meant it. I never wanted to hurt you."

"Yeah, well, you did! And you can't tell me that you weren't in there somewhere!"

"Okay! Some of those things were true, but I'd never shoot you over them."

Dean grumbled again before turning away.

"Dean!"

"Go to hell, Sam!"

"Damnit, Dean! Why won't you listen to me!"

"Because you _shot_ me!"

"Like you've never wanted to kick the crap out of me before!"

"I never acted on it!"

"Yeah, you di-" Sam closed his mouth quickly, sucking in a quick breath, as though it could bring the words back. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

"What?" Dean asked, confusion at Sam's sudden turn-around replacing the anger. What did Sam just say?

TBC

A/N: Tell me what you think! Reviews are a writer's best friend... next to betas, that is (love you Irish!).


	2. Questions

A/N: Thanks for all the amzing reviews. They made my days! Hope you all like the chapter.

**A Familiar Fear**

Chapter 2: Questions

"What did you say?" Dean asked again after getting no reply from his brother.

Sam felt like he couldn't breath. _'Stupid, Sam! You are so stupid!' _He shook himself, trying to get out of his thoughts and back to reality. "Nothing. Never mind. Forget I said anything." He hoped Dean would be so grateful that Sam was letting him off the hook, that he wouldn't question his little brother any further.

"No. You were about to say that I did kick the crap out of you! Why the hell would you say that, Sam?" Dean's eyes were narrowed as he watched his brother's nervous fidgeting.

"It was a slip. It didn't mean anything."

"Yes it did!"

"No, it didn't. Can we just forget this and go to bed?"

"You're the one who wanted to have this little chat, _Sammy_. There's no backin' out now! I'm gonna ask you again, why would you say that?" Dean's voice held no room for argument. He had perfected their father's stern tone and his own added anger made it even harder to ignore. Dean continued, "Were you trying to make me feel bad? Guilt me into forgetting that you tried to kill me?"

"No! It's not like that!"

"Then what, Sam!"

_'Dean, please don't ask me that.' _Sam prayed. He was scared. He didn't know what to do. He had worked so hard to keep this from Dean. It had exhausted him every day he had to keep up his guard and at the same time keep his brother unaware. It had gotten easier as time went by and Sam thought it had been buried. He didn't want to dredge it up. It wouldn't help either of them.

"Sam!" Dean bellowed. Impatience was clear in his voice as his younger brother remained stubbornly silence.

Sam kept his gaze towards the floor, not able to look into Dean's expectant face. His heart hurt and he knew he couldn't do this. He couldn't tell Dean what a curse had made him do so long ago. "Dean, please." He whispered.

Dean's anger and bewilderment melted away with those two words. Sam's voice held a maelstrom of emotions. Dean could tell that his brother was hurting, that he was feeling lost. Now the older hunter realized there was more to this than his own anger at being blind sided by the younger man's accusation. Sam was going through something painful, remembering what Dean wouldn't.

Dean lowered his voice as he took a step toward Sam, "Sammy? What's goin' on?"

Sam looked up at Dean with wide, regretful eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but the ability to talk was snatched away from him. He pulled in a quick breath before slumping forward. His hands made their way to his temples, grabbing his hair in an attempt to redirect the pain shooting through his head. He found himself falling forward before being pulled into someone else's world.

---------------------

"Sam!" Dean yelled, rushing toward the younger Winchester. He caught the younger boys shoulders as he fell and lowered both of them to their knees. Dean had seen his brother's 'shining' enough to recognize it. Even though he'd seen Sam's pained face and glazed eyes before, it never got any easier to watch. Sam's 'gifts' scared Dean more than he would ever admit.

Besides the blinding headaches, there was one thing about the visions that Sam would be happy to do without. The cloudy, jumpy scenes that flashed before his minds eye had made him nauseous on more than one occasion. He hated not being able to see every important detail, and having to scramble for the pieces afterwards. This one was no different. It left him confused and drained, leaning against Dean for support.

Dean felt the tension in Sam's body release as the vision ended, but he stayed where he was. One arm was wrapped around the younger man's shoulders, while the other hand rested on the back of Sam's neck. Dean continued to hold onto his brother until his breathing evened out.

As Dean started to pull away, Sam lifted his head up off of Dean's shoulder to look into his older brother's eyes. He waited for Dean to talk.

"What happened?" Dean asked, keeping his voice as soft as he could. He knew that his brother was bound to have a killer headache.

Sam closed his eyes and sighed. He rubbed his temple as he answered, "There was... this old man. He was pressed into a corner. He was terrified, Dean. His eyes were movin' around, but there wasn't anyone else there. I don't know what he was looking at. Then... it, uh... it moved. He moved. There were woods. He was dead."

The older Winchester absorbed the information his brother had given him. It was vague, but Sam's explanations usually were right after the vision. He was still in shock. He gently pushed for more, "Anything else?"

"Dean, his hair was white!"

"Yeah? You said he was old."

"But it wasn't white before he died."

"Okay, so we're after someone doing bad dye jobs? Ya got to give me a little more than that, Sam."

"I- I don't know, Dean." Sam said with another sigh. He tried to think back to the vision, but couldn't grasp it. The pounding in his head was letting him think of little else.

Somehow, Dean sensed this. He knew when to push, and when not to. "Just sleep on it. If you can't get anything else, that's fine. We'll figure it out."

Sam nodded and allowed Dean to help him to his feet. He got the feeling that he wouldn't be able to remember anything else, and the old man from his vision would pay the price. On the bright side, Dean had forgotten about his brother's earlier slip. Hopefully this new problem would permanently take it off of Dean's mind.

----------------------

The old man had never been this afraid in all of his life. He was trapped and the bugs were coming closer and closer. His wide eyes focused on the small, shiny bodies and the sea of scurrying legs. His breathing came in short, shallow breaths as he tried to contain his terror. There were enough to eat him alive. They were finally coming for him.

TBC

A/N: I know at this point in time Sam doesn't have visions when he's awake. It's my AU addition to the story. Hope it doesn't bother you all too much. Tell me what you think! Reviews are a writer's best friend... next to betas, that is (love you Irish!).


	3. Too Late

A/N: This chapter gave me quite a bit of trouble. I would appreciate it if you all gave me some feedback on how you feel about it. Thanks!

**A Familiar Fear**

Chapter 3: Too Late

The night was quiet. The restaurant stood dark, having expelled its last few patrons hours ago. The other stores and services in the town had quickly followed suit. Dean had idly watched the lights blink out one by one. He had never seen a town of this size fall asleep so early.

_'The Mexican joint should have taken them 'till two at least.'_ Dean concluded as he tore his eyes away from the window and started playing with a thread on the comforter. He was doing anything he could think of to ignore the earlier conversation with his brother, and was failing miserably.

All Dean could think about was his baby brother saying that he had hurt him. Dean wracked his brain, wondering when this could have happened. When could he have harmed his brother enough for Sam to still be carrying it around? The only thing he could come up with was the shape shifter, but he moved on quickly. They were both hurt by the shifter and Sam knew it wasn't Dean.

It was obvious to Dean that Sam would never give up this information willingly. It was something his little brother was trying to hide from him and Sam could be downright stubborn when he wanted to. Dean was going to have his hands full getting the information out of his brother.

Dean felt guilty when he thought back to the fight they had. His head had told him that what happened at the asylum wasn't Sam's fault, but Dean had blamed him for it anyway. He knew the younger hunter was beating himself up over it, and if he had been thinking rationally at the time he would have realized that. It was a punishment that Sam didn't deserve.

On top of all that, they had to deal with the man from Sam's vision. They had no idea who the man was or what had killed him. They didn't even know anything about the town they had stopped in for the night. Dean doubted that either of them were ready for this newest challenge.

Sam listened to Dean fidget in the bed next to him. It didn't surprise him that the older boy was still awake, but it didn't make him happy. Dean needed to rest. While getting shot in the chest with rock salt wasn't fatal, it wasn't anything to laugh at either.

_'You're one to talk.' _Sam's inner voice teased. He knew he should be getting some sleep too. His contact with the crazy doctor had left him exhausted. The emotion that had come out during their quibble had only drained him more. He wanted to close his eyes and drift off, but just couldn't. Too many things were running through his head, each one fighting for his full attention. Sam knew his vision needed to have complete priority. No matter what else he was feeling, the man's life was on the line. They needed to find him. All the other crap would just have to wait.

Sam heard Dean roll over, and he stifled a sigh when he realized his older brother was watching him. Sam was usually the one that did the staring and Dean was usually the one getting pissed off over it. Dean only stared when he was worried. It could be because of the vision, but Sam doubted it. His futile hope that Dean would forget his slip up was out the window now.

Sam spent the next few hours pondering these thoughts. As the sun started rising he decided he had feigned sleep enough for the time being. He got up and made his way into the bathroom. He took a quick glance at Dean, noting that the older Winchester seemed to finally be getting genuine sleep.

When Sam got out of the shower Dean was just waking up. As the older boy sat up Sam held his breath. Sam worried that Dean would start in on him about their unfinished fight, but he didn't.

"You better have left some hot water." Dean grumbled as he pulled himself out of bed.

"I was gonna go get breakfast." Sam stated. The tension in the air was thick. It wasn't a hostile feeling, but uncomfortable. Sam just needed some room to breathe.

If Dean felt it, he ignored it or hid it well. As he closed the bathroom door he called back, "Give me ten."

Sam sighed as he plopped down onto one of the beds. "Right." he whispered to the empty room. The hours to come were not going to be fun.

-----------------------

Dean wordlessly guided the Impala past the motel's adjoining restaurant. He knew his little brother's food preferences just as well as he knew his own. Whatever the _'SeñorCarlos' _could offer up for breakfast, Dean knew neither Winchester would want to partake.

It wasn't a long search before they found a normal looking diner. Neither brother had spoken a word to each other during the short trip and it wasn't until they were seated in a booth waiting for their food that Dean broke the silence.

"You get anything else from that vision?" the older hunter asked, his fingers starting to play with the napkin his silverware was wrapped in.

Sam sighed and shook his head. The sleepless night hadn't clued him into any new information.

Dean looked up from shredding the paper napkin, "So... we don't know this guy's name, what killed him, or if he's even here? What do we know?"

"Nothing." Sam said dejectedly. This man was probably going to die and it would be his fault.

"What I wanna know is, why would you get this vision if there's no way for you to change it? What's the point?" Dean asked, brushing the remains of his napkin to the side.

Sam shrugged before letting out another sigh. "I must have missed something."

"No." the older Winchester said, shaking his head.

"How do you know?"

"'Cause I know you. If it wasn't found last night during your rendition of an insomniac, then there's nothing to find."

"I wasn't the only one up last night." Sam stated.

"Is that your subtle way of saying that I look like crap this fine morning?"

Sam cocked an eyebrow, "Is that _your_ subtle way of saying I look like crap?"

The brothers paused as the waitress deposited their plates on the table. As she rushed away Dean smirked at his brother, "You do look like crap."

"Love you too." Sam shot back out of habit. He saw Dean's smile and couldn't help but do the same. It felt good to be acting like normal brothers again. He smile fell quickly, "Uh... Dean, I'm sorry about what happened-"

"Don't worry about it. You weren't yourself." Dean said with an easy smile before digging into his eggs.

"I could have killed you." Sam whispered sadly.

Dean put his fork down and looked into Sam's eyes. He sighed, "Aw, come on little brother. Not in public."

Sam snorted and looked out the window, strategically keeping his eyes away from Dean.

Dean watched the youngest Winchester for a moment more before returning to his breakfast. Between mouthfuls of toast and bacon Dean said, "I mean it Sam. It wasn't you, it was that crazy doc behind the wheel. His fault, got it?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah, I got it."

"Good. Now hurry up and eat. We got a puzzle to solve."

---------------

Sam rubbed his eyes tiredly. He was exhausted, but in a considerably better mood. Dean had talked to him and Sam knew they would get over the asylum incident. His older brother didn't even mention Sam's accusation, which was a good sign. Maybe Dean _would_ let it go.

They were heading back to the motel room to do research on the laptop and get their ideas together. After that they were going to the restaurant to ask the locals what was going on.

Sam drummed his fingers against the passenger side window as he watched his surroundings. He sat up straighter as they passed by a forested area with three police cars parked in front of it. Their lights were on, but no sirens. Dean slowed the Impala and then came to a stop after they passed.

"Think we should check it out?" Dean asked, his eyes never leaving the rearview mirror.

"Yeah." Sam said. He opened the door, but waited while Dean pulled out some fake IDs.

Dean grinned as he pulled out two thin leather wallet, "Lets get creative on this one. Been meaning to try these bad boys out."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Council on Environmental Quality?" Sam raised an eyebrow before getting out of the car and starting towards the scene.

Dean got out and quickly caught up, "Let me do the talking."

Sam snorted, but kept his mouth closed.

With a few quick stride the brothers made their way up to the officers. "Hello boys. What do we got, here?" Dean asked coolly.

The three uniformed men each turned to look at the Winchesters. One man narrowed his eyes and demanded, "Who are you."

Dean quickly flipped open the wallet and closed it with just as much speed. He put as much professionalism into his voice as possible, "I'll ask again. What have we got?"

The officer didn't seem very convinced of who they were but answered anyway, "We got an anonymous call that there was some old guy out here. Dead. Now we didn't call anyone. Why are you here."

Dean glanced at Sam and almost missed the question, "Uh... we were driving by. Thought we should check it out. You know, being woods and all." He looked back at Sam, seeing that the younger boy hadn't missed it either.

"Did you find the body?" Sam asked. An uncomfortable knot was forming in the pit of his stomach.

The officer nodded, "Just waiting for the meat wagon."

"Could you take us to it?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. Follow me."

The officer lead them deep into the woods, stopping at the edge of a circle of leaves. In the center an old man lay, his body and limbs perfectly straight.

Sam took one look before turning around and heading back the way they came.

Dean followed wordlessly. When they got back in the car he asked, "What?"

Sam had his arms crossed and resting on the dash. His forehead was on top of his arms. He shook his head from side to side, "It's him. The man from my vision. We're too late."

TBC

A/N: Reviews are a writer's best friend... next to betas, that is (love you Irish!).


	4. Another Goes Down

Chapter 4: Another Goes Down

The ride back to the motel was silent. Sam watched out the window, oblivious to the fact that Dean was watching him for the second time that day. It wasn't all out staring as it had been the night before, but small sideways glances. Dean sighed. His little brother had too much of a guilt complex.

"Sammy... "

"I know."

"Sam-"

"I know, Dean. It's not my fault. I didn't kill him." Sam stated, his eyes never leaving the window.

"Who are you trying to convince?" Dean asked. He parked the Impala in front of their room and cut the engine, but neither brother got out of the car. Dean turned to face Sam and asked pathetically, "Do we have to do this?"

Sam was facing forward now, staring out the windshield. He shrugged, "Least we're not in public."

Dean chuckled, "Yeah. Small favors... You gotta stop doing this to yourself kiddo."

"What?"

"This 'everything's my fault' crap. You haven't done anything wrong."

"We didn't save that guy. I almost killed you yesterday. That sounds pretty wrong to me!"

"Good God, Sam! Listen, this whole pity party thing you got going on-not that appealing! First off, you can't save everyone. Especially if you don't get all the facts in the first place. Second, we already had this conversation. It was the doc, not you. Get over it. I am _not _having this conversation again. Got it?"

"Yeah." Sam answered, a ghost of a smile coming to his lips. "It's kind of funny how you were ready to rip my head off yesterday, and now we've had two semi-chick flic moments."

"Believe me, Sammy. I'm always ready to rip your head off. You kind of put that feeling in people."

Sam snorted, the smile growing. Dean always knew what to say to make him feel better. "Yeah, and everybody just loves you."

Dean opened the car door to get out, but paused. He stared at the floorboards, "Sammy... You know I'd never really do that, right? Hurt you, I mean. "

Sam rolled his eyes, "Let it go, Dean. I didn't mean anything when I said that. I know you'd never hurt me." He added with a smirk, "Besides, dad would kick your ass if you did." Sam jumped out of the car and headed into the motel room. Behind him he heard Dean mutter something about always running to daddy.

------------------

Her heart thumped furiously in her chest, quickly pumping oxygen-low blood throughout her body. She gasped for air, but the panic was making her throat tight. Her lungs heaved, trying to fill themselves with much needed air. She sputtered and choked. All she could feel was salty water in her mouth, running down her throat, filling her lungs. She didn't want to die. Not like this.

-----------------

Sam gasped, pulling himself up onto the bed. He rested his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands, willing the headache to go away. He tried to focus on the vision and the woman in it, trying to pick out any unique points that would help him find her. Again he came up empty handed and he thumped the bed with his fist in frustration.

This was how Dean found him. He had gone to the police station, leaving Sam to do the research. He was aiming to get the police report on how the man from the forest had died. He didn't come back empty handed, thanks to the cute, blond desk sergeant.

Dean dropped the folder on the table and quickly made his way to Sam. He kneeled down in front of his little brother and rested a hand on Sam's knee. "What happened?"

"Someone else is going to die. A woman. Damn it, Dean! I couldn't come up with anything from this one either. What's going on? Why is this happening?" Sam asked desperately. Dean's earlier pep talk made him feel better for a while, but he wasn't sure what he would do if another person that he could have saved, died. It was too much.

"Hey, hey! We'll figure this out, okay." Dean tried to assure his younger brother.

"In time for who, Dean? How many more people are going to die before I figure this out?"

"Before _we_ figure this out. We're in this together, Sammy."

Sam sighed, "You aren't the one seeing them dying."

"I know. And I wish I could change that for ya, kiddo. You've just gotta understand that this may take some time. You can't take it to heart. It'll kill you."

Sam was silent for a moment and then, "This must be a personal record for you."

"What?" Dean asked. He was confused at his brother's sudden change of topic.

"Total number of chick flic moments in one day."

Dean threw his arm back in a dramatic manner, "God! That's why I'm so exhausted. It's hard work keeping your emotion-filled ass happy. You're lucky... well you're just lucky."

"Lucky you love me."

Dean got to his feet and pointed at Sam, "I didn't say that."

"You were going to."

"Was not."

"Were to."

"Can we get back to the situation at hand. Let's go over the police report and then you can tell me what you found on the web."

**TBC**

A/N: Sorry for the wait. I never meant for it to be so long. My muse went AWOL for a bit. I promise there won't be a wait like that again and thanks to anyone who's still with me. Review please!


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